


Of Monsters and Men

by BrightneeBee



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Finn Lives, Finn Mikaelson - Freeform, Immortals, Making Love, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sex, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, magical amnesia, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21385939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightneeBee/pseuds/BrightneeBee
Summary: Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just enjoy writing fanfiction. Please don't sue me.A/N: First attempt at a VampireDiaries - Originals fic. Finn/OFC.If you enjoy it and want to review or PM me, feel free. If you hate it and want to flame or PM me, feel free.No regrets...
Relationships: Davina Claire/Kol Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson/Hayley Marshall, Finn Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Klaus Mikaelson/Camille O'Connell, Marcel Gerard/Rebekah Mikaelson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter One

Chapter One

A dream in a memory, a memory in a dream.

The ancient white oaks separating men and beast stood tall and strong, creating a canopy of vibrant green leaves, sunlight peeking through to pockmark the forest floor and give life to wild berry bushes and flowering vervain. The branches rustled gently overhead, and the breeze drifted through the trees, carrying with it the hint of something distinctly floral and saccharin. The only sounds were the chirping of newborn birds and the laughter of two young people.

She felt like an intruder as she watched her own memory play through, a soft glow about the forest as she strolled through the underbrush, not a single thorn catching the soft lace and supple silk of her black dress.

A young woman with long, warm brown hair and deep amber eyes flitted between the trees, glancing over her shoulder with a most brilliant smile. She looked incredibly happy traipsing through the forest, followed by a young man with dark hair and his own hazel eyes glittering with joy, as he chased the girl. Both of them seemed to be in their own shared world, just the two of them. They were alone in nature, free to be themselves away from the disapproval of any who would frown upon them.

“For one so tall, you are terribly slow!” called the young woman, hair glowing with a halo of rose gold in the patches of sunshine.

The young man laughed, full of heart and warmth, “For that comment, I shall surely make you pay!”

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

The young man increased his speed, and lunged for the young woman, but she jumped out of his reach before even his fingertips could graze her arm. With a gleeful shriek, the girl raced behind a tree, peeking out to see him get to his feet. With another giggling shriek, she sprinted off through the forest, and down an embankment. The young man followed chase towards the rushing river, catching her around the middle, eventually.

They fell together into the damp ground at the edge of the water, laughing as the man turned her in his arms, holding her close.

The breeze parted the lush branches above, allowing them to bask in the warmth of the sun and watch it reflect off the river, like gems catching light. Covered in mud, sticks and leaves sticking in their hair, the young couple inched closer and closer until their lips finally brushed together.

“I despise Finn, but you were never more beautiful to him than in that moment,” said a man, appearing next to the woman, as she watched the young couple on the river bank share their first kiss. “Mother was furious to know he had been sneaking off to meet you in the woods. Father forbade the entire village from even looking at you.”

“I remember,” she replied, turning away from the young couple, and walking back through the woods. “Mikael even came to my hut with a warning that my secret would be revealed to the elders if I did not heed their request. I was told to leave, or be hunted.”

“And you listened,” said Kol, his dark blue eyes tinged with sadness. “Finn may not have remembered you, but he spent centuries trying to find you.”

“That ridiculous sireling managed to stem the pain, just as Tatia proved a balm to Elijah and Klaus,” she responded, quietly, and then she sighed. “Pity what happened to to them both.”

“I never truly understood how mother knew Tatia was a doppelganger,” quipped Kol, a small sparkle returning to his eyes. “You told her.”

“I may have bestowed a few parting gifts before I returned to the moors. It was after Henrik’s death, as you well remember.”

“My brother and you always did match perfectly. Complete opposites. Self-righteous, and ruthless.”

“I thank you for the compliment,” the woman offered him the ghost of a smile, full of sorrow and regret, turning back to watch the tenderness in each kiss between the young couple. It wrenched painfully in her chest. “I never truly stayed away. All these centuries, I have been so close, and a world away. Enough has happened in the last thousand years that the spell was weakened, and when Esther truly died, it broke. I have spent enough time traveling through dreams. I will no longer.”

“Cursed to spend eternity in ignorant misery of each other.”

She nodded, chewing her lower lip, “A far cry from eternal bliss.”

“He knew?”

“Yes,” she breathed, walking away from the sight of herself with Finn, knowing that the dream would fade, and she would be faced with cold, damp air and endless darkness, and it was beginning to become too much to withstand. “I was preparing to transcend him. We were to live until the end of days, together. I only knew what the Fates wished to share, thousands of years before your time, when the scholars believed in the stars and prayed to the gods in temples of glory. Before I was reborn.”

The woods surrounding them faded away, replaced by the gloomy solarium of the Strix coven. The pool of obsidian water and thriving lily pads beckoned ominously, chilling her down to the bone. Kol followed her to the altar, following her gaze back to the murky depths of the little pond, a glimpse of a slumbering beauty at the bottom. Her brown hair glistened and shimmered around her face, and she looked far more peaceful in her pseudo-death than in life. It was as if she had simply fallen into a deep, restful slumber, which was more or less what had happened, if one didn't pay attention to the intricate iron dagger sheathed firmly in her heart.

After a respectful silence, the woman breathed and gazed back at Kol from the ancient tome nestled amidst herbs and relics, “I called you here for a reas-”

“You’re here,” he said, softly, taking in the cracked glass hiding her from the world, cloaking her from notice. “In New Orleans.”

“Courtesy of one of Elijah’s many lovers.”

“Aya?”

“Yes.”

There was a touch of disdain in her gentle voice, as she flipped through the pages she had written herself, so many years ago.

The dream progressed through the ritual and inevitable deaths. The harsh moment of realization as Davina Claire managed to break the sire bond between Klaus and his vampire bloodline, slowed to a stop, as both Kol and his ancient companion gazed upon the young witch with individual mixtures of emotions. No one noticed the rumblings of magic coming from the glass casket at the very bottom of the pool.

Time resumed again, and Kol turned back to the coffin, as the glass cracked more, like webs spreading as both brothers’ blood danced and curled downwards to fill the fissures, like ink on paper. The pale olive flesh of the woman trapped below soon became dotted with droplets of crimson, and as they traveled up the slender lines of her body, leaving trails of red in their wake, Kol was filled with a sense of anticipation. The combined blood followed a preordained course to the woman’s mouth and nose, until every last drop resided inside her, continuing a journey to her heart.

“So, we remain connected, you and I,” came the echo of Elijah’s voice as the veil between realms faded and reality whirled around the two observers. “In spite of everything you have done. I can't let you hurt my family. And you can't hurt me more than you already have.”

Kol walked around the room, watching the scene play out, while the woman found the spell she sought. Gathering the dried herbs, she returned to the ledge of the pool, tossing the herbs into the murky water, refusing to allow herself even a glimpse of what was happening. Instead, she looked to Kol, beckoning him to her side.

“I stood by you, Elijah,” responded Aya, devastated in her defeat. “All of us were willing to die for you, and how did you repay it? Betrayal. Abandonment.”

Kol took the woman’s hand, chanting along with her, and ignoring the tremble in her fingers, the tears welling in her eyes. Looking back at Elijah, he could tell why she refused to watch. Elijah, taken aback by Aya’s accusations, still looked upon his protege with the haunting regret of a long ago lover, and he understood the painful longing; she felt it for Finn, desperate to find her way back to the love that started it all. Kol would know that look anywhere, for it was the same longing, sorrowful feeling he experienced watching Davina from the cold existence of death.

“You were not forsaken,” was Elijah’s reverberating reply, and the fingers curled in Kol’s hand clenched unforgivingly as they continued the chant. “Yes, I failed you. For this, I will never forgive myself. I cannot forgive… This.”

“If your life were chained to a man who left you despite your devotion, what choice would you have but to break free? So… End this.”

Wherever they were in relation to the present passing of time, Kol had no idea, but, like fragile glass, the room began to splinter and crack as the pressure of magic began to build.

“End it, Elijah! Or I'll take that gun and kill you just to finally be free!”

The glass of the coffin started breaking apart more thoroughly, water crashing down and dislodging the stake just enough with the force of gravity. The power drew heavy around Kol and the woman both, electric and suffocating, dark and light, all combining to return her to the slumbering body. There was a sense of danger in the air, an urgency that weighed on them both. It had to be done any moment, or there would never be another chance.

Hayley ran Aya through from behind, piercing the viperous vampire’s heart, and killing her instantly, permanently. And the resounding silence that followed, lasted mere minutes.

“That's more mercy than Jackson ever got,” was the only sound in the room, her remark thick with an underlying growl of grief.

Then the realm in which Kol had been summoned, the one breaking around them, erupted.

The spelled glass of the coffin imploded, caving in fully. Water crashed down, dislodging the dagger in her heart just enough with the force of gravity to pull it from her heart. She disappeared, pulled back into her body, as Kol was thrown into the beyond with the ancestors. The woman woke with a gasp, inhaling water and herbs, clawing at her naked flesh as the lingering magic connected with her own, burning through her body, and reverberating through her veins.

Her magic rippled out like a shockwave as the last of the enchantments on her broke, shaking the very foundations of the entire French Quarter and beyond. The surface of the pool had merely shuddered minutes before, and then turned violent, roiling with pure, untainted, limitless power. And then she emerged, breaking through the water as she wrenched the dagger from her chest, coughing and gasping for her first breath in almost two centuries. The air filled her lungs, and she stumbled for a few steps before collapsing.

Something else pulsed in the air, affecting Elijah and the woman already on her knees. He winced, and she whimpered, both clutching their heads as a force ripped through their minds, burrowing deep and then disappearing completely, a momentary flash of pain and then nothing. They were both left reeling for a moment, a sense of confusion and lightheadedness settling over them. The air in the room shifted, and emotions tried to claw to the surface.

“What the f-”

“Language,” warned Elijah, calmly wrapping his expensive about the naked woman’s shoulders. “It seems we have discovered the power source to Aya’s coven. Hayley, allow me to introduce you to a very old acquaintance...A very old, very powerful witch.”

The dagger clattered to the ground, and the woman shivered on the stone floor. Heavy breaths fell from her purple lips as she looked up at the two people standing in various stages of surprise and calm intrigue. Hayley watched the way Elijah looked at the trembling woman, as if in the presence of something extremely precious and significant - something to be cherished and revered. It was similar to the way he looked at her when they were alone, yet extremely different. There was no love in his eyes, only appreciation.

“How old are we talking, Elijah? And how powerful?” questioned Hayley, eyeing the thin fingers clutching his jacket closed around her, and the gaunt, haunting look in her eyes. “She doesn’t look like she could sw-”

Elijah, unstartled, caught Hayley before she crumpled to the ground, neck broken. He laid her gently on the floor, giving the woman an exasperated look. She took his offered hand, and struggled to her feet, experiencing the echoing remnants of her centuries long slumber, and the first twinges of hunger stirring deep in her center. Leaning into Elijah, she glanced back to Hayley’s unconscious form, and with a large effort on her part to not faint from the strain, brought the hybrid back to awakeness.

The hybrid stood up, angry and ready to rip a throat or two, but she bounced off a barrier, unseen and slightly painful. Hayley rubbed the red spot on her chest, earning a half hearted smirk from the ancient lady. Elijah merely gave them both a stern look.

“Ladies, I have far too much to deal with at the moment to referee a cat fight,” he said, bored and indifferent. “Please, retract your claws. There has been enough death here tonight.”

The women both sighed and reluctantly agreed. Hayley sped off first, huffing and puffing, after seeing Elijah pick up the woman, intent on carrying her. When the hybrid was gone, they looked at each other, Elijah conflicted and forlorn, and the ethereal woman with an amber glint in her and a flash of a memory that disappeared as quickly as it came. A throbbing pain blossomed in her head, and she felt an urgent desire to feed. Her senses were slowly heightening, and Elijah’s scent was more intoxicating than anything else she had experienced in her extremely long life.

They arrived at the compound in a matter of seconds, and Elijah moved through the halls with ease, setting her in a soft bed. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the rippling effect had crashed through them, but Elijah worked endlessly to make her comfortable. He provided her with a nightgown, and brought her a sandwich and glass of water as she dressed.

Unfortunately, a turkey sandwich was not what she craved. It was unsettling to consider, but she had used Kol to amplify her spell, a derivative of the same spell used to make the Original vampires. She had used hybrid and vampire blood to pull her body from the brink of death, a state she had been stuck in for centuries. Everything about her would be different from then onward. She was still the most powerful witch in existence, but she was also a transitioning hybrid, and she would need to feed on blood eventually or she would die.

“I shall speak to you in the morning,” said Elijah, pulling back the sheets from the bed. “There is much to discuss, but you require rest. I will advise my siblings of your presence. Sleep well.”

She almost stopped him, but instead let him leave. There were so many warring emotions, and a desperate longing stealing her voice away. She expected that Elijah had started to experience something akin to confusion and resentment. The entire Mikaelson clan had been made to forget about her, how closely tied to them she had been before the change.

No, there would time later for questioning what had been unleashed with the ritual. She had more important things to worry about, and a transition to complete. There was something coming, something stirring in the city that she could not ignore, and what she desired more than anything, was to find a way to reunite with Finn.

  
  



	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

  
  


She woke to the warm glow of the midday sun, and the light itself shone in a kaleidoscope of color. It was bright, startling. It was beautiful, but painful to watch longer than a moment. The noise of the city, as well, was not helping the budding headache, and with a clenched fist, a sharp turn of her wrist, the shutters all slammed closed, allowing the room to fill with shadows and humidity. Hunger rose to the surface, a monstrous serpent in a turbulent sea, breaking through the cresting waves and roaring into the tempest overhead. The longer she went without completing the transition - without feeding - meant that this raw, desirous need would only grow stronger. It could take her over, and the destruction she would eventually cause would be too great to ever come back from. It would eventually drown her, bury her, and all that would be left would be a void of bloodlust. 

Stumbling through the hallways of the large house, she followed the loud echoing conversation to a study. Her throat was burning and raw with hunger, the need to complete the transition her most urgent desire. She needed blood, but Life must respect Death, and Death must respect Life. She was a hybrid now, and her dual natures were warring on how to feed. Part of her desired to bury herself in the rich soil of a flowered field to re-establish a link with nature, regenerating from what life gives, and returning it in appreciation. The other part of her, the newly turned vampire, wanted nothing more than to drink her weight in blood. 

“You collect trophies from all your victims?” echoed a raspy female voice from behind the study door. 

“Letters to their loved ones to be specific.” 

Elijah. The male voice was most definitely Elijah, and the female, she recognized that voice, as well. It had been hundreds of years, but the voice was the same. Did that mean Dahlia was alive, as well? With both Dahlia and Freya, she may be able to reverse the vampire curse without expending any of her own energy, or completing the transition. 

“It was a phase,” said another voice, male. The breath caught in her throat, recognizing that voice, as well. It had been a thousand years since she had heard that voice outside of her dreamwalking. The only people she had been close to thousands upon thousands of years. 

Outside the door, just around the corner, she leaned against the wall and listened as she regained her breath. Her limbs were heavy, her veins dry and burning, the dim light filtering through the dark hallways almost blinding her, and she felt considerably lethargic. The hunger was stronger than she ever imagined it would be upon waking, and a large part of her had to wonder how long had she been sleeping? 

“A phase in which we were forced to learn a different kind of stealth,” came Elijah’s reply, drawing her away from her miserable existence for the moment. “You see, over time, Niklaus’ enemies grew so numerous we had no choice but to artfully withdraw from the world. And then… Well, I wouldn’t exactly describe our presence in this city as discreet, wouldn’t you agree, Niklaus?” 

“We all saw the white oak destroyed. Plus, this city was crawling with vampires, all of whom had no choice but to shield me from potential foes,” exclaimed Niklaus, an arrogance in his demeanor that had never been there a thousand years before. Where once he had spoken in light and jolly overtones, he now spoke with force and self-entitlement. “Were I to die, they would die, too. I couldn’t have been more safe! And now my sire link is undone. Those very foes will come for me, like never before.” 

Freya sighed, and the woman still breathing shallow in the hallway couldn’t help herself from smiling, small and weak, at the witch’s exacerbation, “It’s only been a few days since the link was broken. Must you jump into crippling paranoia already?”

A few days. She had been sleeping for a few days. No wonder she was deliriously hungry. No wonder she was in so much agony. She either needed to get her grimoire back from Aya’s sanctuary, or drink some blood. She would die soon. 

“That’s a default setting,” quipped Elijah. 

“And with good reason,” said Niklaus. 

Elijah replied, again, “Well, Niklaus, if it offers you any solace whatsoever, we’ve ransacked Aya’s belongings, torched Aurora’s hunting ground, and obliterated every last splinter of white oak.” 

“I would be mad to believe that.” 

“Perhaps you should see a therapist,” challenged Elijah. It was gentle, subtle, but the intent was in the inflection of the word, ‘therapist.’ 

Whatever it meant, the phrasing had the desired effect. Niklaus almost bowled her over upon his departure. He took in her appearance, the gray complexion, the blackening veins around her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks. It flashed in his eyes, the understanding of what she had become, and what she desperately craved. He said nothing, save to dip his head in acknowledgement before disappearing down the hallway. The silent message had been clear, he remembered, and he was sorry. They would embrace later, of course. There was danger on the horizon, always danger. 

It never occurred to her that he had sped off to retrieve a glass and fill it with his blood, yet he did, and then he left. She stared at the crimson contents until the urge to drink overtook her completely. She could do this. She could reverse it after finishing transition. She just needed to bide her time, gather her strength, and she could return to her natural state. Hopefully. 

“‘Every last splinter?’” asked Freya, her voice quiet, but holding weight, heavy with concern. “You sure?” 

Elijah’s response never came. Once she drank down Niklaus’ blood, the burning intensified, filling her with new life, new power. It seared itself into her very being, solidifying the magic to keep her alive. She gasped, choking on every breath as she completed the change. The tumbler fell from her gentle grasp, shattering on the floor, but she barely registered that she had collapsed into the shards of crystal. 

“Eve?” 

There were voices, and hands shaking her. The scent of Elijah consumed her senses, and she reacted as he lifted her in his arms. Her nose was pressed into his neck, and her teeth sank through his flesh without resistance. Blood burst forth, Elijah moaning as her pleasure became his, relaxing into her control as she fed. It was glorious; the taste, the smell, the feel of bloodlust abating. Where she was drowning in raw, roiling agony, the maelstrom Eve soon receding. Her mind less driven by instinct, Eve grew conscious of what she was doing, and suddenly remembered herself. 

She immediately wrenched herself away from Elijah. Colliding back into Freya, the women tumbled to the floor in a mass of tangled limbs. Breathing heavily, Eve extracted herself from her old friend, and pressed back against a wall, shocked at the ease in which she had overpowered an Original. She had almost drained Elijah, and twisted his pain into pleasure to ensure he did not fight back. It was horrifying to her, how easily she attacked him, a man who had once considered her a friend. She had never attacked another being unless balance and nature were threatened, and, still, never with such ease of violence. 

“Eve,” rasped Elijah, slumped against the wall opposite and just finished a small feeding from Freya. He looked apologetic, almost drowning in sympathy, but not pity. He didn’t look angry or surprised, at all. “It will get easier, I promise.”

Freya shook her head, watching Eve closely, “No… No, it’s only going to get worse.”

“She’s right,” cried Eve, wiping at the blood soaking her face. She felt hysterical with grief at what she had done to herself. It was agony. She could not exist as such a creature, it was simply not in her nature. “I have betrayed my purpose. The earth will crack and die. You’ll all die. Everything will unravel...”

“I will not let that happen,” said Elijah, as forcefully as he could muster. “Whatever you need, old friend. You need not ask.” 

“My grimoire,” sniffled Eve, coughing on the sweet smell of blood surrounding her. “I need my grimoire, and I need to return to Mystic Falls. Everything I need can be found along the river… It hurts, Elijah.”

He nodded, sighing. “I’m so sorry…”

“The blame is with Aya,” said Freya, firm in her opinion. “Eve did what she needed. If she had stayed where she was balance would have been tipped anyway, and nature would have retaliated.” 

There was nothing more to be done. She needed rest, and to find her bearings in a world that she had watched evolve from behind a veil. The difference in her body would take getting used to, as well as the need to stretch her magical limits, her power. She would need to know if she had retained what nature had gifted...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

_ I will not do to my child what was done to me… _

_ Eve’s consciousness fell through hundreds of thousands of years of memories, as if she were being reborn, again.  _

_ Then came the unbridled fear as she was dragged from her little hut by the ankle, through the cold mists of early morning to a sacrificial stone slab. Screaming for help from the participating villagers, fighting to get free, she prayed for intervention, altruistic or divine. No one stood against Adam the Chosen, her husband by force, not choice, and watched as he went about sacrificing her to the gods. She had refused him, disobeyed him, and by the decree of the Chosens that came before, her life was forfeit to appease the gods and provide the head of the people with a more pleasing companion, or bountiful harvests before winter, or rain when the sweltering months had dried up the streams and the river stalled, stagnant.  _

_ The panic was overwhelming when she woke underground, choking on soil as she clawed her way to the surface of a field full of cowslips, primroses and dog-violets, close to the wide river and sacred circle. Under the full-bellied moon of the first morning of summer, Eve broke through to the fresh air and the wilting landscape exploded in vibrancy. The grass grew lush again, and the flowers stood a little straighter following a searing day abused by the sun. The moon shone brighter, and everything looked...more.  _

_ Aspects of life came into view that had gone unnoticed her entire existence. The fantastical creatures of early life were everywhere; faeries, gnomes, elves and mermaidens. Gods and Goddesses welcomed her back from the clutches of mortality, glimmering visions of magic and power. She had become one of them, a Nomad eternal, worshipped by the people of many different lands; the emerald hills of Ireland, the crisp air of the Scottish Highlands, the moors of England, the airy lands of the desert lands to the east, the lush banks of the Nile. There came the might of Rome, the wonder of Greece, the exodus of Egypt.  _

_ Civilizations rose and collapsed. Wars waged. Religion evolved in different cultures with the coming of Christ. Boats and ships flew over the waves to a new world. Whimsical beings faded and withdrew from the realms of mortals, and left behind witches and wolfmen to balance the scales. The sense of community and family, friendship and love spread through the world, and the wonder of daybreak glittering over the rivers, the chirping of birds in the trees, and flitting through the woods brought a life carefree and full of joy.  _

_ There were nights spent making love under the stars, or by a small fire in a hut. There were centuries of despair and loneliness, drifting from continent to continent, feeling as if a piece of herself had been stolen, yet unaware of what it could be. There were the centuries trapped in a glass coffin, living behind a veil between living and dead. _

_ The soul-breaking pain of watching the man she loved die, again and again... _

It was unbearably warm in the room when Eve woke, staring at the ceiling dejectedly. So many years, so many memories, and true happiness had only been experienced for what amounted to a brief period of time. Being awake for barely a week had not helped ease the sorrow at knowing she had missed the last opportunity to reunite with Finn. Her heart was hollow, and she was burning with hunger for Original blood, again. 

“Faith… The acceptance of which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove,” whispered Eve, wiping the remaining tears from the corners of her eyes. 

By the afternoon, she had settled in one of the studies upstairs with her grimoire. It wasn’t long before Elijah and Freya found her there, nursing a cup of tea that mysteriously kept steaming whenever it grew too lukewarm. Curled up on a lounging sofa with papers scattered over the coffee table, Eve paid no attention to their discussion of family crisis. Absorbed in reacquainting herself with her grimoire, she flipped pages to skim her tight, slanted scrawl displaying more than one ritual per page. She had never been an artist, and the symbols remained rudimentary, functional. They were clean and concise, but there had never been a particular need for embellishment. 

Klaus was the person to pull her out of her thoughts, barging through the compound and into the study, “It was him. It was Gaspar Cortez.” 

“Hm?” Eve intoned, looking up from her grimoire. Freya responded with more exasperation, “I assume this is someone from your box of letters?” 

“The youngest son of a particularly vile family of warlords I dealt with in the 17th century,” Klaus elucidated, pacing anxiously. 

Elijah quirked his head, a slight tilt that was almost inquisitive, “Didn’t they burn that Philistine pigsty to the ground?” 

“Pigsty?” questioned Klaus, offended. “Belaga was my favorite artist’s retreat. Someone had to pay for that, so I murdered Gaspar’s brute of a father.” 

“And?” prompted Eve and Freya in unison. 

“And one or two -”

“Five,” corrected Elijah. 

With an exasperated sigh, Klaus rectified himself, “Five of his bloodthirsty brothers.” 

“Don’t forget the mistress,” drawled Elijah pointedly, to which Klaus turned to him with a very serious look. 

“That was an accident.” 

“The point is that Gaspar was but a footnote,” said Elijah. 

Klaus was quick to respond, “Until he became a vampire hell-bent on hunting me. He’s a cunning deviant known to compel hordes of the helpless to aid him with his tasks. You see, this is exactly what I was concerned about. Devil’s of all kinds crawling out of their crevices to strike at me.”

There was a pause, brief if one counted such a stall in conversation only lasting a fraction of a second. Elijah followed with another tilt of his head, but Klaus spoke with a devious smirk, “Speaking of which.” 

Vampire speed always astonished Eve, having only her own means of instantaneous transport for so long, and also holding no interest into learning how to utilize whatever vampiric abilities had merged into her own being. The most she had done in the previous 24 hours was work trivial manipulations to feel the flow of natural power through her core and flex the weakened muscle, so to speak. The burst of natural force that had snapped Hayley’s neck had come before Eve completed transition, and, since her abilities had been extremely weak. 

Elijah followed Klaus, and then Eve and Freya hurried after them down into the courtyard, missing a few minutes of action and conversation. Grimoire tucked against her chest, Eve came up behind Freya, focus entirely on Davina and Kol, who stood with a smirk at being present in the flesh. She dropped the ancient tome without hesitation and rushed forward past Elijah and Klaus to embrace the younger Mikaelson sibling, a mixture of hope and joy bursting in her chest. 

“Kol!” exclaimed Eve, throwing her arms around him in a close embrace. Resting her head upon his chest. “You’re here.”

“You stole the nexus vorti,” commented Freya to Davina, cautiously and cool. Davina responded as a person on the defensive, “And brought your brother back from the dead.”

“You should be thanking her, really,” added Kol, still tangled in a fierce embrace with Eve, who finally released him to hug Davina. 

“You brilliant witch,” gushed Eve, pressing polite kisses to each of the young woman’s cheeks. “Thank you.” 

The embrace between Klaus and Kol went unnoticed by Eve as she beamed at Davina, cupping the young woman’s face. The little witch looked confused and nervous, uncomfortable, but allowed Eve to continue staring at her in pure happiness and wonder. For Eve, it was a welcome surprise to finally feel the genuine light in a mortal. Freya was tinged in frost and dulled by darkness, and it had been difficult to distinguish if it had worsened or lessened in the centuries upon centuries since Eve had befriended her in Europe. Since transition, Eve had found it difficult to feel the soul of any being through touch, or see their light through the windows of their eyes. She had felt disconnected from nature and life and humanity since breaking through the veil into the mortal realm, but with a slight flicker of what she remembered being a roaring inferno and rapidly flowing river. Davina was a warm light, hardly tainted, and brimming with potential power the young woman had yet to utilize. 

Davina was her choice for assistance in reversing the transition. 

“Hello, Elijah,” greeted Kol, the brothers embracing. Elijah pulled away after a moment, and took in his brother, almost in awe, with a tone barely above a whisper, “You haven’t aged a day.” 

Kol then turned his focus to Freya, “And you…” 

“Freya,” the Mikaelson sister answered. Kol nodded, “Right. Long lost sister. Speaking of twists and turns of our family tree, where might Rebekah be?” 

The siblings in the know looked between each other, but Klaus stepped forward to break the brief silence, “That’s a long story, and one reserved for family. Davina can see herself out.” 

Kol balked, defensively, “Are you -”

“As per usual, our family faces a multitude of threats,” explained Klaus. “The sooner you become acquainted with them, the better. I won’t have you distracted -”

“By Davina?” Kol cut him off, growing more agitated by the second. In that moment, something flashed behind his eyes, and Eve caught it, like a reflection. A mass of ghosts of the dead in his eyes, and she could feel the shift in him, as if he was being manipulated, or guided, and not by his own emotions. The brief whisper of something from behind a different veil, and it reeked of death. “You know, if you could only pull your head out of your -”

“Kol, it’s okay,” interjected Davina, diffusing the situation after catching the look on Eve’s face. “I’ll go.” 

Eve took the opportunity to get Davina alone, “I’ll go with. I’m in need of a stroll and Davina’s assistance.”

“Really?” asked Kol, cautiously examining the tension in Eve and confusion in Davina. Eve simply nodded, picking up her grimoire from the ground and dusting it off to avoid eye contact, “Of course, sweetling. She brought you back from the dead. I have something that might be a challenge for her, if Davina is interested. I have quite a lot of knowledge in these pages.” 

“Yes, sure,” agreed Davina with a shrug. She looked back at Kol, embracing him again, “It’s okay. You can make it up to me.”

While the young couple whispered their farewells and made promises, Eve leaned in to speak with Elijah, Freya, and Klaus, “Watch him while we’re gone. Something isn’t quite right.” 

“What do you see?” asked Freya, trying to keep her voice as low as possible, but Eve simply shook her head and took the keys from the witch’s hands. “Are you sure about this, sister?”

Eve nodded with a smile, “Of course. Natural balance must be restored, and I was never meant to be...this. I was chosen for a reason, just as your siblings were chosen for a reason, and you were chosen for a reason. Besides, this will protect Davina. We’ll be back in a few days, I promise.” 

It was soon enough when the two women were strolling out through the front gates of the compound and into the crowded streets outside. Protected with dark sunglasses provided by Klaus, Eve hooked her arm through Davina’s and guided her down the street to the strategically parked SUV. They chatted, the grimoire safely confined in a purse that Freya had pilfered from Rebekah’s things. Of course, some of the questions Davina asked were better left when safely inside a vehicle, or away from mortal ears, the oblivious humans who lived in a world of no magic, and no idea what true power could be. 

As they neared the SUV, a novelty that Eve found offensive to nature, but marveled in the face of ingenuity of the mortal race. It was in a bout of silence that Eve finally divulged her true reason for joining Davina, “I need your help. I’m certain you’ve already realized… Offering to take a stroll with you was a ruse. I wanted to speak with you to see if you would be willing to accompany me to Mystic Falls.”

“Why? You’re a vampire.” 

“I’m more… like Klaus,” Eve extrapolated, offering the young woman the set of keys as they stopped next to the automobile. “A hybrid, but I have to reverse it. I was never meant for this type of existence. I’m something… beyond mortal human reality.” She took a hard breath and sighed, “There is so much that you have to learn, Davina, and so much that I want to share, if you’ll let me.”

Davina simply looked at the keys in her hands, and then back up to Eve with an exasperated look, but subsequently she acquiesced, “Where is Mystic Falls?” 

“I think it is in a state they named Virginia,” answered Eve, feeling hopeful when the young woman took the keys and pressed a button to unlock the doors. “I believe Elijah had the destination inputted into something called a GPS?”

Davina laughed, shaking her head, “Alright, as long as we’re back soon. I just got Kol back.” 

“Of course,” nodded Eve, confidently. “The ritual will only take one night. Unfortunately, I am not familiar with the means of transportation, and I am also not as strong in this existence… part god, part vampire, part witch...I will not keep you from your love, Davina. I swear it to you.” 

“I expect honest answers,” said Davina pointedly, showing Eve how to open the door and walking around to the driver’s side and starting the vehicle. “Start at the beginning.” 

And so Eve did...

  
  



	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

_ Elijah… _

The blood was still traveling across the world map, all trails leading to New Orleans, even as Klaus returned to discuss the latest information, obviously with hackles raised and itching for a fight, like a cornered animal. There he was, the wolf in a panic, looking for an escape to protect his young, his family, himself. Options were being considered, routes planned, safe houses categorized and inventories, all in the span of mere seconds as Klaus paced, his mind a whirring machine of brutality and subterfuge. 

With a sigh, Elijah spoke up, “So, this might only be a fraction of your potential enemies.” 

“In hindsight, could’ve been nicer to people,” quipped Kol. “Or at least left fewer survivors.” 

“We don’t know all their motivations,” Klaus snipped, body a strung wire ready to break. “Half of these people could want to put the bullet in  _ your _ heart, end the sire war with the pull of a trigger.” 

“I have an army of devoted to keeping me alive,” retorted Elijah. “The only people that care to protect you… Standing in this very room. As you well know, Niklaus, there is another way.” 

Freya joined the conversation, a bit shocked, “You’re going to run?” 

“There was a time when the name Klaus Mikaelson was little more than a rumor,” the hybrid explained. “A shadowy figure who cast fear into the very bones of any who heard whisper of him. I don’t run, sister. I disappear. And tonight, the three of you… Are going to make that possible.” 

There was nothing more to discuss by the tone Klaus used, and so they transitioned to how their hybrid brother, Hayley, and Hope, would disappear without very little trace, if no trace at all. It had to be done soon, as Davina and Eve were gone to Mystic Falls, much to Kol’s chagrin, and thus preparations in the magical aspect fell solely on Freya’s shoulders. There was no one powerful enough to protect the family, and to defend against Klaus’ enemies, Hope needed to be safe. No matter if they all perished, Hope was of the utmost importance to everyone. 

The hours passed, and darkness swept over the Quarter in New Orleans. Hayley and Klaus had departed with Hope, and security had been increased tenfold. Freya and Kol had taken to sitting in the courtyard by a fire discussing Davina’s ingenuity and determination, as well as the return of Eve. It wasn’t long before Elijah managed to fall into a fitful sleep, only to jerk awake before the first rays of sunrise. 

The prophecy plagued Elijah, who had always been calm and calculating, but ever since returning to New Orleans nothing had been quite the same. He was more influenced by his emotions, and by his own personal feelings for Hayley. On some level, he could understand the conflict Eve had experienced since departing from Mystic Falls a thousand years prior. She had once been a beacon of balance, neutrality, and Finn had unearthed a different sort of light in her that shone brighter than her own purity and natural beauty. Where she had been cool, but welcoming enough, she then made decisions based on the pull of her own heart. Elijah had merely brushed on how difficult it was to think rationally when matters of love and loyalty were concerned. 

“Are you quite sure?” asked Elijah, back in the main study after his brother had burst in that morning with an urgent matter, and they had been mulling over the information ever since it had exploded into the silence. 

“I saw him with my own eyes. Finn must have come back when Davina resurrected me,” Kol pressed on, unaware of the implications that would rock the foundations of the Mikaelson family, including the members no longer present. “The spell was tied to the blood of the Mikaelson line. Either it worked on him, or he found a way to hijack it. Either way, the only  _ how _ I care about right now is how long I’m going to make him suffer before I kill him.” 

“Restraint, brother,” warned Elijah, thinking instantly of Eve and how she would react if her last opportunity to reunite with Finn was taken from her, again. “For now.” 

Kol continued to push the issue, unwilling to let go, “Why? Finn is clearly the one spreading rumors about missing white oak. He’s luring Nik’s enemies out of the woodwork. It’s all part of his tedious revenge fantasy.” 

Freya chose that moment to enter, interrupting the flow of the conversation to interject her own opinion, while Elijah began kicking himself over the fact that he never taught Eve how to use a mobile device. Of course, he could contact Davina, but he doubted she would even pick up unless he requested Koll call. There was no reason for him to bother either of them, while Eve was mentoring Davina and reversing her own vampirism. It would cause a rift, and Eve had been adamant that she could no longer withstand being isolated from her true self. 

“You’re wrong,” said Freya, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Those rumors began before either of you returned. Finn’s innocent.” 

Kol scoffed, “Innocent? Pardon me, love, but Finn has tried to kill the rest of us more than once. He’s an enemy of our family.”

“Kol,” warned Elijah, cutting the tension with one look. “Remember that there are those who do not feel the same as you.”

“Kol, he is our family,” said Freya, firm and gentle, but not forcefully. “Finn’s return is an opportunity to mend old wounds and fix what’s broken.”

Kol, of course, refused to see reason, and Elijah was growing weary of the adolescent temper tantrum. 

“He didn’t drop a bloody vase!” snapped Kol. “He murdered me!” 

Elijah focused more on Freya, at her certainty and immovability, “You see certain.” 

“Are you honestly siding with her?” exclaimed Kol, growing more angry by the second, as if he were a man possessed. Elijah was starting to see what Eve meant by needing to watch him closely, and approached as if he hadn’t noticed the shift in his kin since being resurrected. 

“Time and again, Finn has demonstrated nothing but contempt towards this family,” Elijah extrapolated to Freya, wanting to make it perfectly clear that he wanted to believe her, but there were specific reasons all living Mikaelsons looked at Finn with caution and suspicion. “So, you tell me, how can you be so certain that he would return to us in peace?”

How unsettling and clandestine it felt that Finn chose that moment to reveal himself, strolling into the study with all the confidence he held as one of the admired hunters and warriors of their village centuries ago. 

“Our sister knows me well,” Finn said, flashing an overly cocky smirk. “Though perhaps you’re right to doubt my intentions. By all means, let’s discuss our family quarrels. I believe we’re long overdue.” 

There was a silence that stretched on through the relapsing tension, and then all hell broke loose...


	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FOUR

“You’re  _ the _ Eve? Like, Adam and Eve?” 

“Yes, but the Bible was very wrong,” answered Eve, much to the shock of Davina, who was only just turning onto what she called an off-ramp. “This was… during the days of the first civilizations hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of years ago. We lived in homes made of mud and clay and sticks and dry sweetgrass, and the sky was mesmerizing at night.” 

“So, Adam and Eve - you weren’t the first of humans as we know them?” asked Davina, still very confused, but open-minded about Eve’s history lesson. “There was no Eden, no God?” 

“There is a garden, as I like to call it, but it would be easier to show you once I am myself,” replied Eve. “Regarding your main question, no. I was of a generation a few centuries into the human race, but there were beings that had been transcended, or of a fantastical world in correlation with this one. The gods had always been mortals once, and were immortalized during death, born again for a purpose. There were creatures that are now only myths. The world was different, but in what used to be Gaul, men were slowly taking control.” 

“What happened to you? What’s the real story?”

Eve sighed, looking out the window at the landscape passing in a blur, “Adam was… the head of the village. The chief, like a king. He fought a dozen men in the tribe to claim me, and the bloodshed did not impress me. Such a massacre, but he was Chosen, and the chief. I refused his hand, but he had killed his brethren, and blood had been spilled. I did not have much say in it, as a woman. I still fought him after the ceremony by the elders, refused his rights to my bed, refused his touch. It was a slight, unacceptable in a companion. So, he dragged me from our little hut during the night, the eve of the sweltering months...He sacrificed me to the gods for a better wife, a pleasant wife.” 

“And that is what the church based the Garden of Eden story on? You refused to bow down and be subservient to a man, and he sacrificed you for something better?”

“The story of Lilith, and the story of Eve,” she nodded, wiping at the tears brimming her eyes at the memory. So much panic, so much fear, and yet she had been chosen by the gods, and not Adam. “He was the victim, and the woman - me - was then twisted into the sinner, the betrayer.”

The younger woman huffed, changing lanes, obviously upset by the great lies of men through history, “Leave it to men to make women the ones in the wrong… What happened next? How did you come back from death?”

“Gods begin life as mortal, full of humanity,” Eve explained, describing life then compared to the modern era. “There is a connection to something that burns inside them, and consumes them during death, so they are reborn in that image, for a purpose that was sparked inside of them. I felt a connection to nature, and the balance of all things. The sun during the day, the moon and the stars, life and death. Calm and Chaos…

“I remember the sacred blade coming down, unable to breathe, so much pain,” continued Eve, almost reliving the experience she had dreamed about just that morning. There was a sense of surrealism, or residual agony that she wished she could detach from while speaking of it. She had never spoken of it to anyone save Finn. None of the other Mikaelsons knew how she had become a god, an Immortal, a transcended being of infinite power different from a vampire. “When I came back, I was in the earth and it was damp, cold. I was choking on… the ground vibrated around me as I clawed through the soil, emerging under the dying light of the moon and the first rays of the morning sun, and the world erupted into life when my fingers touched the grass above.

“My whole existence changed. Transcended, the first witch born of nature, martyred for independence,” said Eve, sniffling. “Everything changed. Now the gods have vanished, retreated back into the ethereal realm with the other beings of the first days. I am the only transcended immortal left.”

“You’re… all alone,” said Davina, a sadness to her voice. “How do you know the Mikaelsons?”

Eve sighed, again, vibrant memories flashing through her mind and bringing a sad smile to her lips, “Centuries before the vikings explored the new world, after the gods retreated, there arrived a collection of peoples from the true continent… wolf people, witches. We all settled in the vast lands of this Virginia. We lived in peace for centuries, but a new chief of the wolves rose to power and set about a war on my own people, the witches. We refused to fight them, and despite my infinite power, the alpha and his wolves came for me first during the full moon. He distracted me, while his vicious pups slaughtered the witches in the village.

“In the aftermath, amongst the carnage,” Eve inhaled deeply, holding back the pain of feeling every single death. “I withdrew into myself. I left the village of wolves and lived a solitary life for… centuries. Almost 300 years. Then the vikings arrived, and among them were Esther and Mikael, and their son, Finn, I believe. I kept to myself for a long time, hiding in the woods and living with half of myself in another realm of magic and wonder, ready to retreat and leave man to ruin the earth I had maintained for so long.”

“That’s… I’m so sorry,” whispered Davina, eyes forward on traffic and the setting sun. “So, if you were leaving the mortal world, how do they Mikaelsons fit in?” 

“Esther, the mother,” answered the immortal, an edge of bitterment to her voice. “She discovered me one day, while picking weeds by the river. She seemed welcoming, a fellow witch. Her children were grown then. I never went to the village, though. I could not fathom watching the devastation of another group of innocent souls to the wolves.”

“I don’t understand, then…” 

Eve smiled sadly, “It was the first morning of spring. I had spent the night dancing under the stars, by a fire next to the river, caressed by the warm wind blowing from the south. As I ushered in the new season, a man emerged from the trees. Bare chest, splattered with the blood of a fresh kill, and… beautiful. He was mesmerizing. His soul was pure. I caught him watching, and I fled. He came back, every morning, hoping to find me again, and I hid, watching him, until suddenly I… stepped back into the mortal world and spring bloomed around us…”

Eve spoke about Finn as if he were a god in his own right. 

The months of secretly meeting, the love that grew, the happiness she felt after being alone for so long. There were so many moments that she cherished, and she described them to Davina in whimsical detail. Memories were everywhere, but she tried to keep them in chronological order. The days spent chasing each other through the trees, the nights spent divulging their secrets, the first time they kissed, the first time they made love, the threats that came from Finn’s father, and the disapproval of his mother, Esther. Despite having been welcoming of the truest witch, the Original witch, truly immortal and part of nature itself, Eve was still feared, misunderstood, and Finn’s parents hated that she wanted to transcend him, as if she were going to take him away. 

Eve explained how Esther had cursed the entire village to forget about her, erased every trace of her from her own family’s memories. She told Davina about how she faded away from the majestic lands of the new world the morning before Esther turned her own children into vampires. She just faded away, through her garden - a pocket of space between realms that lived in eternal sunshine, spring in full bloom - and retreated to Ireland with its rolling hills and fields of flowers, all the green in the last land of magic. 

There was the centuries she wandered, a nomad with no memory of love, but the feeling of heartbreak that remained ever present. She moved from country to country, culture to culture, following a pull, but never reaching the end of the path, no idea if it would lead to an end. That was how Aya caught her, almost killing her to utilize for a vampire’s benefit, for a coven of budding witches to channel without ever knowing how, or where, the power was coming from. 

Then there came the centuries of Aya’s coven using her limitless connection to nature for the purpose of Aya, herself, and the Strix. Hundreds of years trapped between the living and the dead, unable to slip into the realm of the gods, or into her own garden. Eve had been forced to watch behind a veil. Remembering the love of her life, knowing Esther had finally succumbed to death, and unable to break free to find Finn. Feeling each of Finn’s deaths and only able to watch as he passed through to the Other Side. There were so many veils between different living planes and the afterlife, none of which Eve could step through. 

The trip was paused for rest somewhere in Alabama, the women sharing a hotel with two beds in a room that was deemed clean enough. By the morning, Eve had developed a tinge of gray in her complexion, and the hunger for Original blood was causing her quite a bit of discomfort. Still, she suffered without complaint, and let Davina set the pace for the journey. Despite her many years trapped in perpetual limbo, Eve remembered being human. Requiring food, sleep. Even transcended as an immortal god, or goddess, of witchcraft and nature and balance, that one aspect of a mortal life remained the constant, reminded her of humanity. 

Eventually, after two days on the road, and the ever increasing, agonizing pain of hunger crippling Eve, the women arrived in Mystic Falls...


End file.
